


Just a Short Reprieve

by FactoryKat



Series: The Mages' Champion and the Healer's Hope - The Wyatt Hawke Collection [16]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: After Kirkwall, Anders Being Anders (Dragon Age), Custom Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Fluff, M/M, Post-Dragon Age II, Purple Hawke, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 03:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactoryKat/pseuds/FactoryKat
Summary: Hawke and Anders have taken Isabela up on her offer to sail out of Kirkwall and are on their way to starting over. Hawke isn't a fan of being out on the open sea and Anders has just the remedy.





	Just a Short Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> Just a very short little fluffy drabble that came to me in an afternoon. Enjoy!

Whoever first thought the “gentle” rocking of a ship as soothing was daft. Each pull of the waves jostled the vessel, tossing her about like a cat toying with its prey. Between the swaying and the spray of the ocean over the side as it crashed against the ship’s hull, Wyatt felt his stomach drop and turn over on itself. 

He had long since given up on standing - not even bracing himself against one of the masts afforded him any relief. Isabela nonchalantly reassured him more than once he would find his “sea legs” in no time but he had serious doubts about that. It had only been two days since they left Kirkwall, two agonizingly long days out on the open sea. His current state, sitting bent over with his head buried in his arms, was truly no better, but it was at least a fitting distraction as he stared into the shadows and his eyes tried to form patterns from nothing. 

“Love?” A voice called out to him and heavy boot steps followed. 

Lifting his head, though reluctantly, Wyatt looked through squinting eyes at Anders who stared back at him with creased brows and an apprehensive frown. He didn’t like the idea of saddling his beloved with anything else to fret about as the man already had plenty but it wasn’t as if he was actively trying. 

“Hm?” 

Sighing dolefully, Anders crouched down in front of him reached out to tenderly cradle his chin. “While I can’t say that you’re as white as the sails, you certainly look like you’re going to be ill.”

Somehow, he managed an embarrassed laugh. “Heh. Don’t suppose you have some sort of remedy in your bag of tricks, for my lack of ‘sea legs’ as our _ distinguished _ captain put it?” If he were honest - and he usually was to some extent - there was more to the gnawing in his gut than simply seasickness, but it made a good cover for the rest of his woes that made up the anxious knot weighing heavily upon his shoulders.

The mage formed a sound in his throat that only a distressed lover could and reached for his hand. “Come on.”

Wyatt resisted as his lips pulled into a pout, “Thanks but I’d rather not move if it’s all the same to you-” but Anders wasn’t listening and pulled him to his feet. 

“Don’t be stubborn. Come here.”

When the healer insisted, it was usually wise to heed his request. Despite how content he was to sit and wait for at least the nausea to pass, if nothing else, he allowed Anders to guide him down the steps from the quarterdeck. They did not travel far, for his lover made himself comfortable immediately, sitting with his back pressed against the captain's cabin. 

Anders gestured and he followed dutifully. "Lie down, love, head in my lap" Even in his perturbed state, Wyatt snickered though he refrained from vocalizing his inappropriate thoughts. Not that he needed to, Anders read him like a book and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Yes yes, very funny, but that is not quite what I had in mind.”

“Shame that, but fine. If that is what the _ doctor _ recommends.” His voice dropped in volume and pitch as he carefully lowered himself to the deck, staring his lover down in the process. 

Looking beyond the always present fear and misgivings, he could see the glint of yearning within Anders’ eyes, their color a burnished gold in the dying light of the sun. Wyatt settled in and stretched his long legs out while his head was nestled comfortably on a warm lap. Instinctually, his eyes closed when Anders laid hands on his head and he felt the natural hum of magic in the mage’s fingertips as they just grazed his skin. Though subtle, the sensation was still soothing and abated the churning in his stomach. It was a small thing, as not even magic could take away all of his troubles but one less thing was one less thing.

"So…" Anders began with a quiet voice, uncertainty present in his tone. "Back to Ferelden?"

"Mhm," Wyatt mused without looking, still relaxing.

"Right then."

He opened both eyes and cast his gaze up to see that audible uncertainty reflected in his lover’s face. “We’ll be safe there.”

Anders scoffed, “You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do.” He heard a sigh, or what sounded like a sigh.

“Really? And do you plan to fight every last templar who comes for us then?”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you safe, then that’s what it takes.” He spoke with assurance, forcing as much confidence as he could muster into his words. When the magic ceased, Anders’ long fingers combed themselves through his hair attentively for a few passing minutes as silence filled the space where words had been. Wyatt dared not to disturb the peaceful moment and relished in the simple affection. 

Everything would work out. Somehow.


End file.
